Home
by sunkbypierce
Summary: Love isn't supposed to be so hard, and for them it isn't.
1. Easy Like A Sunday Morning

"Okay, so I know we agreed that-"

Maggie held out her pointer finger towards Jackson, signaling him to wait. She took a step back and looked over the bright pink pancakes that she had spent the past 10 minutes trying to shape into small hearts.

They were as whimsical as she had hoped they would be. She placed her hands on her hips and smiled. Maggie slid the pancakes onto a Minnie Mouse plate and topped them with a dollop of whipped cream and a pinch of pink sprinkles.

Satisfied, she walked over to Harriet's high chair and placed the pancakes in front of her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweet girl!"

Harriet's light brown eyes lit up at the sight of her breakfast, causing Maggie's heart to leap. Before Maggie could instruct Harriet to use her utensils, Harriet dove her little hands into the whipped cream and gleefully licked them clean.

Maggie chuckled before spinning on her heels to face a smiling Jackson.

"Now what were you saying?"

He shook his head as he pulled out an envelope, she had not realized that he was holding.

"Open it."

"You know I hate Valentine's Day," she groaned.

She took the envelope out of Jackson's hand and studied it intently.

"Says the person who just made cotton candy pink pancakes in the shape of perfect tiny hearts."

"They are pretty perfect, aren't they?" she drawled.

Maggie let out a giggle as she tore through the seal of the envelope. She pulled out the two pieces of paper and looked up at Jackson who had a senseless grin plastered on his face.

 _Tickets._

She shot Jackson a confused expression and averted her attention. Putting her focus back on the tickets in her hands.

 _Not just any tickets, tickets to Boston._

"Let's go home," he declared.

"Jackson when in the world would we ever find time to go to Boston?" she asked in disbelief.

Jackson waved his hands dismissively.

"I spoke to Karev, it's all set. We'll be out for a week. Arrangements have been made and your dad has been called. No excuses, Pierce."

"Y-you called my father?"

Maggie felt her heart drop in her chest. She had not seen her dad since her mom passed away almost 2 years ago. She had spoke to him, sure. But between her work schedule and his need to be in the face of every woman in Boston, they just had not found the time to meet up.

Jackson gently grabbed her waist and pulled her into him.

"Yes, I called your dad. You always have reasons as to why you have not seen him, I wanted to make this easy for you. Besides, I want to meet him under less strenuous circumstances. I will be with you the entire time Maggie."

Maggie released a breath she had not realized she was holding. It wasn't just her dad, it was her mom too. Jackson had called Boston their home and it was at one point. But her mother was no longer there, and she knew that she'd feel her absence the moment she stepped foot off the plane. She'd feel it so deeply that it would cripple her. Grief comes in waves. One moment you are swimming and feel as if you can go on, and the next you are overcome by a surge of water and you are struggling to find the air to take your following breath. Maggie was just starting to feel as if she had touched the shore, and she was not sure if she was ready to navigate the sea when she had just found safety.

As if he had read her mind Jackson added, "I know it won't be easy to return without Diane being there, but I think it will give you closure that you do not realize that you even need."

He gently caressed her cheek and despite her conflicting emotions, Maggie smiled. One look at him and it was abundantly clear that this trip was not about him wanting to go home. He had planned this trip for her, to give her something that he thought she needed.

 _This man._

 _Her man._

He used to terrify her. Before Jackson, Maggie's heart had been a hotel. A heart with corridors and no reverence. A place to sojourn but never settle. And she had gotten used to entrances but mostly exits. And at first, she had regarded him as a tenant and not a soulmate. That is, until he proved otherwise.

She removed his hand from her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on his palm.

"Okay," was all she said in response. The response was weak, and had he been standing farther from her, Jackson may not have even heard it. She was not sure how she would face her father again after so much time. She was not sure how she would hold herself together when she reached a Boston that her mother did not reside in. But she was sure that regardless of what happened, Jackson would be there for her. And in that moment, that was enough for her.

The smile he gave her in response was blinding.

"Okay," he replied in agreeance.

He wrapped his arms around around her shoulders and brought her tiny body into to his chest, giving her a tender kiss on her forehead. She reveled in the moment. This love, the love they shared, the love that he gave her was something that she could not articulate with words. It was easy. _Easy like a Sunday morning easy_. And she concluded that it was supposed to be that way. Love was not meant to be so hard, we were created to love.

Jackson had made a home of her hotel heart, became acquainted with its furnishings. Had left covers and cushions inebriated with his scent. She was used to being all journey and no one's destiny. But she was sure she was his.

She let out a blissful sigh and disentangled herself from his embrace.

"I guess I will leave you and Harriet to it. I'm going to take a quick shower before I go in for a consult. It shouldn't take long. Happy Valentine's, baby."

Maggie playfully rolled her eyes at his self-satisfied smirk. He knew she hated Valentine's day, just as he knew she hated surprise gifts. And she had been defeated this morning.

 _Jackson- 1_

 _Maggie- 0_

Jackson placed a kiss on Harriet's whip cream covered cheek and began to retreat to their bedroom. Maggie smiled to herself before calling out behind him, "Hey, for the record, Boston is not my home. _You are the only home I know_."


	2. Picasso

"Ma'am, Dr. Avery asked that we have you meet him outside of the aircraft."

Maggie readjusted herself in her seat and rubbed her eyes in attempt to wake herself up. She had insisted that they not take a private jet to Boston, but Jackson was stubborn, and she had learned early on in their relationship to pick her battles. This one was not worth it.

"Dr. Pierce, he's waiting."

Maggie looked at the attendant in disbelief.

"Nicole, I assure that it will not kill Dr. Avery to wait."

The tall blonde shot Maggie a look of distaste. It was brief, but it was there. Maggie was almost impressed at how quickly she recovered from it.

She scoffed before disentangling herself from the throw that Jackson had draped over her when she fell asleep. She extended her arms to stretch and finally stood up. Nausea quickly overcame her. The weight she felt on her chest was heavy enough to make her grab hold of the back of the seat that was in front of her.

 _Why the hell had she done this?_

As if on cue, Jackson stepped back onto the jet with a look of confusion etched into his beautiful features.

Oh yeah, _that's_ why.

"I told her you were waiting," Nicole quickly informed.

Maggie twisted her face in annoyance. "I told her you were waiting, Dr. Avery," she mocked. Making her voice sound like a taunting child.

A smile tugged at the edges of Jackson's mouth.

"It's okay, Nicole. I realize that this woman of mine can be quite difficult."

Nicole was not amused. She gave a curt nod and swiftly retreated to the cabin.

"I am not difficult, she is just extremely irritating," Maggie retorted.

"Uh huh."

Maggie shoved his chest playfully, causing him to let out a harmonious laugh and relinquish the smile that had been dancing on the corners of his mouth just moments earlier. Jackson reached for Maggie's hand and interlaced her fingers with his own before guiding her off the jet.

"Jackson this is silly," Maggie whined in protest.

She gazed out the window in horror as the driver pulled up to the familiar Country Club. There was nothing country or club-ish about it honestly. It was basically an extravagant resort for extremely wealthy families.

She had been over the moon with excitement when she got the job when she was younger. She knew that working there would provide the opportunity to establish important relationships with people in high places.

She could not tally how many times her mother had pulled into this exact parking lot to drop her off for work. Waving and blowing a kiss before she'd skyrocket off. She'd thought it to be embarrassing then, but she'd give anything in the world to have those moments again.

When Catherine was undergoing surgery, Jackson had told Maggie that his mother had always taken up too much space. She had not said it at the time, but the sentiment reminded her of her own mother. Her beloved mother had always been larger than life. Her laughter and joy were contagious and people were always drawn to her. When Maggie was a teenager, she was envious of how easy it was for her mother to get people to like her. Even in her last days, Diane had managed to win over everyone that she met. Hell, she had even managed to charm Meredith which was no easy task. It had taken Maggie months to win Meredith's affection. It was easy for her mother, it had always come easy.

"We both used to come here. Isn't that what some would call fate?" Jackson joked, interrupting Maggie's thoughts.

Maggie rolled her eyes in exasperation as Jackson hopped out his side of the vehicle.

She groaned when the driver politely opened her car door. But took his gloved hand and allowed him to assist her in exiting the vehicle.

"Thank you, Ben. And for the record, my piss poor attitude has nothing to do with you and everything to do with that pain in the ass of a man standing behind you."

The grey-haired man gave her a sly wink as he closed the car door behind her.

"Let's get this over with," she declared.

Maggie watched the young man in the ballroom play the piano with profound passion. The golden boy's eyes were closed, and his fingers were moving in a fluid motion. She was sure that It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. And heard. The chords he played commanded your full attention and she had yielded to the melody's demand.

"Incredible, isn't he?"

"I don't think I have ever witnessed a finer musician," Maggie whispered.

The tears that fell from her eyes came as a surprise. She quickly moved her hands to wipe her moistened cheeks.

It was almost as if the music had put her in a trance. She was not sure how much time had passed when she abruptly tore her eyes away from the boy at the piano and looked over at the man beside her who had been placed under the same spell. He was in a navy-blue suit and had his hands resting in his pockets. His skin was the color of rich dark chocolate. His chestnut brown eyes were glistening at the sight of the young musician. Maggie glanced down at his full lips and the smile that rested on them was so familiar that it almost knocked the wind out of her.

As if he could sense her watching, the man's eyes wondered over to hers and she felt her heart drop in her chest when he set his gaze upon her.

"Mags?" he inquired in disbelief. He tilted his head as he observed her from head to toe.

Maggie shifted awkwardly on her feet at the realization that he was looking her over.

"Hey Dean," she replied weakly.

"Come here girl," he exclaimed. The smile he gave her in that moment put the one she observed seconds earlier to shame. Dean's smile was blinding, it had always been one of her favorite things about him. The joy that he radiated was infectious, he had reminded her of Diane in that way. Before she could respond, he wrapped his large arms around her tiny body.

This part was not as familiar as the smile. It felt foreign, it had _always_ felt foreign. This is what led to the termination of their engagement several years ago. Being in Dean's arms was never sweeter than her solitude and that revelation was enough to send him running. Those around her had presumed that because she did not want to give up her seclusion, that she did not love him. This was far from the actual truth. She had agreed to spend the rest of her life with Dean, how could she not have loved him? She had loved him as much as her heart would allow at that time. And when he left, she felt it break. She had not admitted it, of course. But it did break, and she suffered in silence. Dean was part of the reason that she had spent so much time running from Jackson in the beginning of their relationship, she did not want to feel that feeling again. A broken heart will not kill you, although at times, the pain will make you wish that it would just go ahead and put you out of your misery. And on her worst nights, Maggie had lied awake wishing that her body would just succumb to the pain that it felt.

"How long has it been?"

Every word that left his mouth seemed to drag. It was as if time had suddenly slowed down. The universe was mocking her, she was sure of it.

"It's been about 5 years," she let out an anxious laugh.

Maggie had once compared her break up with Dean to the art of Picasso. It was a wild comparison, but it was one she had thought about often at the time. She was touring an art museum when she came across a mock painting of Picasso's. She had wondered how many paintings Picasso had created and not shared with the world. How many paintings had he worked hard on, only to cast them to the side and deem them as unworthy? She had decided that those unseen paintings were a lot like her relationship with Dean. He was Picasso and she was a painting that he had poured his all into. Although it felt right when painting it, when he stepped away and got a clear picture, it was not the vision he foresaw. It was not _good_ enough. It was not what he _wanted_. She was not his _masterpiece_.

Dean's eyes did not leave her. Maggie peered behind him, frantic to find something else to look at.

"Honey, the room is ready."

Maggie felt the blood drain from her face. Her head snapped in the direction of the woman's voice. She locked eyes with the young woman and studied her briefly. She was wearing a fitted black bodycon dress that accentuated her small baby bump and curves. Her lengthy 4C hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that made it easy for you to see her perfectly formed features. She was gorgeous, in every sense of the word.

Dean wrapped his arm around the mysterious woman's waist and motioned towards Maggie.

"Kya, this is Mag- I mean Margaret. Margaret Pierce."

Maggie desperately wanted to disappear.

 _What is it about seeing a past lover with someone else that makes us feel so uneasy?_

"Just Maggie will suffice. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kya!" Maggie exclaimed. Coating her voice with faux enthusiasm.

"Ditto, Maggie! Are you an old friend of Dean's?"

Maggie winced at the realization that Dean had not even thought it necessary to mention their past engagement. She had mentioned him to Jackson after all.

"Me and Maggie go way back. What are you doing in Boston anyway? Last I heard, you were a kick ass heart surgeon in Seattle."

"Oh, she is _still_ a kick ass surgeon."

The sound of Jackson's voice in that moment was equivalent to angels singing. She felt his body behind her and immediately relaxed. _This_ was familiar. It had always felt familiar. Maggie had no explanation as to why lying next to Dean made her desperate for space. She had never felt that way with Jackson, lying next to him had always felt right. Lying in his arms had felt like a _warm welcome home._ Her solitude was sweet, but he was sweeter. She supposed that is what made the difference.

"This is Jackson," Maggie informed with a smile.

Love is funny, **isn't it**? You think you love someone and then someone else comes along and shows you a love deeper than you ever thought possible. It makes the love you thought you knew before seem like child's play in comparison. A love so deep that the ocean should shake with jealousy.

Jackson extended a handshake to both Dean and Kya before wrapping an arm around Maggie's waist.

"I am sorry that I had to interrupt. Are you ready, babe?"

Maggie nervously bit her lip as she turned to him and nodded her head.

She briefly returned her attention back to her ex-fiancé and his wife, "Dean, it was great seeing you. And Kya, it was so nice to meet you. I hope you both enjoy your stay. Perhaps we will see you around."

"We look forward to it," Kya replied sweetly.

Jackson gave them a warm smile and wave that they both happily returned.

Maggie turned on her heels before allowing Jackson to guide her towards the elevator. She released a breath she had not realized she was holding as she pushed the up arrow frantically.

"I was enjoying watching you squirm," Jackson declared with a chuckle.

Maggie looked at him in disbelief, "how long were you watching?"

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open for their entrance.

"Long enough to get a good laugh," he retorted.

Maggie looked down and covered her face in humiliation. Jackson removed her hands and lifted her head gently by her chin to look at him. He lightly traced his thumb over her bottom lip.

"What was that all about?" Jackson inquired.

His deep gaze made her knees weak.

"I can't answer questions with you looking at me like _that_."

The smirk Jackson gave Maggie as he leaned back was insufferable.

"That was my ex-fiancé." Maggie uttered as she shook her head. She was not sure why it came out like a confession but saying it out loud gave her a sense of relief.

"I know that."

Jackson reached for a stray curl and caringly tucked it behind Maggie's ear. The smirk was gone. He was studying her now. Trying to discover what direction this conversation was going.

"And that was his wife," she continued.

"Mm-hm," Jackson nodded his head intently.

He paused patiently for Maggie to continue.

"We were engaged and now he is married to someone else. And _you are my masterpiece."_

Jackson raised an eyebrow in bewilderment, "I am your what?"

Maggie could not contain the roar of laughter that escaped from her as the elevator came to a halt.

 ** _Note: I think Grey's has done a lot of exploring when it comes to Jackson's past relationship. This chapter was me attempting to explore Maggie's (how I imagine it anyway). Processing past relationships is messy. There are always those feelings that arise regardless of how long it's been or where we currently are in our lives. All those complex feelings are what make us beautiful as humans- our ability to feel so many things at once. Hope you guys enjoyed thanks for reading!_**

 ** _This conversation is not over and this is not the last you've seen of Nicole_**


End file.
